


Love is Blind (and Allergic to Pollen)

by SuperBlondie



Category: GOT7
Genre: Everyone but Mark and Jackson are just mentioned, First Meetings, Fluff, Halloween, Jackson is a Good Person, Just me being silly, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mentioned Vminjoon, Mentioned Yugbamjae, Werewolves, mark is dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-14 04:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16033025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperBlondie/pseuds/SuperBlondie
Summary: Is that a pair of glasses in Mark's pocket or is he just happy to see Jackson? (Both, but not in the way you're thinking.)





	Love is Blind (and Allergic to Pollen)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LunaticWriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaticWriter/gifts).



> This was a hot, hot, hot mess but I love it. It's my first ever fic for GOT7 and I hope it's up to par! This exchange was really fun and I had a great time!
> 
> I hope LunaticWriter likes this!
> 
> Here is a big big thank you to my beta [Aarushi!](https://twitter.com/AarushiC_18)
> 
> Prompt: It's halloween and an actual werewolf/shifter mistakes a human in a costume for a real werewolf and immediatly wants to befriend/mate/etc  
> werewolf is oblivious (at first?)  
> human is confused (but finds the werewolf attractive and his costume so "real")

Mark sneezes himself straight out of a shift. Technically, a sneezing fit is what does it, but it’s only on the last sneeze that the force sends him rolling backwards as he slips back into human skin. Flower semen, the one natural enemy of the Taiwanese-American werewolf. That, and lost glasses. But the glasses are a secondary need considering his eyes are still sort of usable; he can’t say the same for his nose.

Mark sniffles and gets nothing, not even actual air in his lungs. He can’t even smell the tree right in front of his face. And he _knows_ the tree is right in front of his face because he ran into it before the sneezing fit, because he can’t see shit without his glasses and he has no idea where those are.

But he’s out in BamBam’s neighborhood anyway – he really, really hopes it’s BamBam’s neighborhood. There’s some Halloween party that BamBam decided to throw because it’s his and Yugyeom and Youngjae’s anniversary and Youngjae _loves_ costume parties. And BamBam and Yugyeom are weak when it comes to Youngjae. Hence a Halloween costume party that doubles as a sweet anniversary party and Mark is pretty sure there’s more alcohol in their house than a liquor store.

“Smells like BamBam’s neighborhood,” Mark says and then lets out a hysterical little laugh because he has no goddamn idea what the neighborhood smells like. Because his nose is runny _and_ stuffed up from fucking _flower cum_. He pulls himself together long enough to dig his clothes out of his backpack and get himself covered up – he’s not trying to get arrested for public indecency.

He looks around, squinting in the darkness for a hint of light. He’s not all that sure where in the forest connecting his neighborhood to BamBam’s he actually is, but he figures he’ll end up somewhere in the vague vicinity if he follows the streetlamps. Hopefully someone will take pity on his half-blind state and point him in the direction of six-four-six Duncan Street.

Mark spots a light through what he thinks is a break in the trees. He stumbles towards it. “Shit!” And trips over a rock. The lore about werewolves being super agile and graceful is just that, lore. Eyesight is still pretty fucking important for maneuvering.

Mark pushes himself up and starts a slow, careful walk towards what seems like a streetlamp. He taps out with his foot before he takes a step; it's like troubleshooting with his actual body and it makes him feel like an idiot. What if someone is just watching this grown adult tippity-tap their foot on the ground and whisper quietly about looking out for rocks?

What if someone was able to read his thoughts and knew that he, a grown adult, used the word 'tippity-tap'?

The streetlamp helps a little when he reaches it. It gives him enough light to see the ground in front of him, but the outlines of the houses are vague and indistinguishable from one another and it's way too dark for him to see what colors the houses are. His only clue as to where BamBam's house is, if this even is BamBam's neighborhood, is the thumping bass coming from somewhere in front of him.

Mark tilts his head and follows the sound, head twisting from side to side to try and triangulate the source. It's easier to do when he has ears he can actually move and usually he hates doing this because he looks dumb, but his hearing is the only sense he has that hasn't been royally fucked so he deals. He follows the sound to a house that looks possibly blueish from up close; he's not sure. It's definitely a color though, definitely a color.

There are three steps up the front porch. BamBam's also has three steps leading up to his front porch, so he considered that a win. He decides to ignore the fact that there are many houses with three steps because he's one minor inconvenience from shifting on this front porch and howling until Yugyeom or Youngjae come get him.

"Hey, buddy, you here for the party?" Mark startles as the front door swings open and the blurry outline of a person appears.

And then Mark breathes a sigh of relief because the person appears to have hair sprouting from the sides of his face and what Mark thinks are canine ears peeking out from the top of his head. It's a little risky, a little trashy, but shifting halfway is a pretty common costume for werewolves around Mark's age. "Another werewolf," Mark steps closer to make sure the other werewolf can smell him well enough, "thank god."

"You're not dressed as a werewolf though? You look like a nerd – a cute nerd! But like...a nerd."

Mark pauses for a moment and blinks. It makes a little sense that he'd be rebuffed. Secrecy is the big Rule for werewolves, even on Halloween. It was a little stupid of him to just call out another werewolf. So he rolls with it, "Ah, yes, a nerd. That is what I am. Not a werewolf at all!" Or he tries.

But the other person laughs. "Oh man, you're committed to the nerd costume, aren't you? Well, come on in, I guess. More the merrier for a party, right?" He steps to the side and waves an arm for Mark to walk in. "I'm Jackson. And you are?"

"Mark."

"Nice to meet you, Mark. I'll show you the kitchen." Jackson waves a blurry arm for him to follow him through the crowded house. Mark bumps into at least three people before Jackson grabs his arm and pulls him along. "Are you already drunk?"

Mark laughs. Werewolves take _a lot_ to get drunk. Jackson should know this. Jackson should've at least been able to smell the lack of alcohol on him. "I lost my glasses and I'm like legally blind without them," he explains. And then smacks into a table with his hip and hisses. Jackson laughs and holds his wrist a little tighter.

"Gonna have to keep you close and make sure you don't turn into a human pinball, huh? I'm not a huge fan of the crowd tonight – not great people when they're sober, much less when they're drunk." Jackson gently pushes Mark into a corner and tells him to stay as he grabs a drink and hands Mark an unopened soda.

"You seem new to parties," is all Jackson says when Mark tilts his head in question. "You can't see if anyone has fucked with your drink like this and I don't want you getting hurt. Also, since you're legally blind and all, I don't think getting drunk and losing coordination would be a super great idea."

Mark smiles. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"No problem." Mark thinks Jackson is smiling. He's just a little too far away for Mark to tell, but the tone of his voice is happy and Mark studies psychology and knows it just natural to smile at someone when they're smiling at you. Social mimicry is a hell of thing and it's even stronger when it comes to werewolves and all the pack animal instincts.

They stay in the kitchen, which was surprisingly empty for how the rest of the house is packed full. Mark watches as shapes of people come in and raid the fridge for beer before waving and wandering back out into the crowd.

It's not BamBam's house, that's for sure. People at BamBam's parties fill the entire house, BamBam, Yugyeom, and Youngjae's room included. Mark's never heard of a Jackson at any of BamBam's parties either and he seems pretty popular, too popular for Mark to not have heard of him. And there's the fact that one of Mark's friends would've come and found him the second he walked into the house.

Pack members’ scents are impossible to miss – unless your sense of smell is out of commission.

Jackson seems so popular. Mark doesn't know why he's hiding out in the kitchen with him in silence when it seems like so many of Jackson's friends want him to come hang out with them. This has to be his party, so why is he spending time with Mark, a party crasher? Sympathy for a fellow werewolf in trouble, maybe?

"So what are you doing here? I've been waiting for you to text someone to tell them where you are or ask me if I know where any of your friends are."

Mark frowns into his soda and chews on his lower lip. It's embarrassing to admit even to another werewolf. "I'm pretty sure I'm at the wrong party. I'm supposed to be at a friend's anniversary costume party but I don't exactly know what street I'm on or how far away their house is and I can't really sniff them out because of allergies so... I'm here. With you." As for the phone thing, it's lost along with his glasses.

Jackson nods. "Do you need a ride?"

Mark blinks. "Huh?"

"Do you need a ride to your friend's house? You're welcome to stay if you want to because you're pretty decent, and _quiet_ , company, but you look miserable." Mark makes a little _ah_ of understanding. He hadn't even considered the party being too loud for Jackson's ears. It's nearly deafening to Mark, but some werewolves become accustomed to the noise. Stings a little to hear that he looks miserable though. He is a little miserable, but that doesn't mean it needed to be pointed out.

But, "What about your party? Wouldn't it be kinda dangerous to leave all these people in your house without you to run interference and, like, supervise?" Mark doesn't want to be the reason someone's house gets fucked up.

Jackson laughs and Mark finds himself laughing along, something so funny about the way Jackson doubles over and smacks at the counter. "You think I'd let these people in my house?" Someone yells about trying to fit smarties in their ass from somewhere else in the house and Mark would bet Jackson is looking at him with a _you see what I mean?_ expression. "This is my friend Namjoon's house, his boyfriends Taehyung and Jimin are the ones who threw the party. I just came by to say hello, steal some candy, and some food. I was actually about to leave when I opened the door and saw you."

Mark nods. That's a little better, makes a little more sense. If Jackson didn't even want to be here in the first place, it would make sense that he stay out of the way and hide with his fellow werewolf in the quietest place in the house. Mark also feels a little guilty that Jackson is staying when he obviously wants to go home. All because Mark decided allergy pills were for suckers and lost his glasses.

"So, need a ride? I don't mind dropping you off."

"Yeah, that'd be great, actually." He still doesn't actually know what Jackson looks like aside from the hair sprouting from his sideburns and the ears on his head, so if things go wrong he'll have no real way of identifying him, but Jackson's a werewolf. It goes against werewolf code to betray another werewolf.

Mark follows Jackson back through the house and out to the street where Jackson helps him into his car. Why would a werewolf need a car at night? Mark uses a car to get to the college, but he'd never use one at night. He's got four paws that work perfectly well and they don't contribute to climate change. The oldest ice in Antarctica just broke, it's way past time to start going green.

But Jackson's doing him a favor and he's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. So he gets in the car and doesn't say anything.

That is, he doesn't say anything until Jackson asks him how he got the party in the first place. "Like are you gonna have to go get your car tomorrow morning? Or is your friend gonna go with you and help you get it later tonight?"

Mark laughs, "Why would I need a car?"

Jackson turns to him when they come to a stoplight. The red light spills into the car and Mark thinks this would probably make for a really nice picture. A photo he would take if he could see and had his phone on him. Jackson's voice is pretty, he wouldn't be surprised if his face was pretty too.

"Well," Jackson starts, "I think might you need a car to go places. Since you're kinda visually challenged without your glasses I wouldn't want you driving or anything but I'm not sure how you got here in the first place. Like obviously you know your friend's address so any Uber wouldn't have dropped you off at Namjoon's pace."

"I didn't take an Uber. Why would I? I've got legs."

"And you're blind as fuck. And this address is like a half mile from Namjoon's house so it's probably a few miles from your place so that's a pretty long walk at night, especially when you can't see, and it's cold."

Mark rolls his eyes. It's like Jackson is being willfully obtuse or something. Mark unbuckles his seatbelt and crawls into the backseat of Jackson's little Toyota Camry. "You know what I mean. Just because I'm sick doesn't mean I can't do this." He starts to strip and Jackson starts shrieking.

"What the hell are you doing? Put your clothes back on! This is a moving vehicle! Haven't you ever heard of distracted driving? _Pants must be on in my car!_ Mark, what the fuck are you doing – _Holy shit!_ "

Jackson, for being a werewolf, reacts a little strongly to Mark shifting in his backseat. Everyone has shifted in a backseat before, it's like a right of passage. It's the easiest way to get to a pack run when you know you're going to be too tired to walk home after the sun comes up. Mark wags his tail and looks at himself in the rear view mirror. Jackson is still screaming, but at least he didn't crash the car. Even werewolves aren't immune to car crashes.

“You’re a fucking wolf,” Jackson shrieks, “you’re a fucking wolf in the back of my goddamn Camry!” Mark nods. Because yeah, that’s pretty obvious. “Okay, okay. This is fine. This is perfectly fine. Would you mind changing back into Mark, please?”

Mark shifts back in an instant, confused at the high-pitched lilt of Jackson’s voice. “Are you okay?” Jackson nods and squeaks for Mark to put his clothes back on and climb back into the front seat. So Mark does, because Jackson was kind enough to drive him to BamBam’s place and because it’s still weird to be naked around someone who isn’t pack, even for shifting purposes.

They finish the ride in silence. Mark listens uncomfortably to the accelerated beat of Jackson’s heart and feels a little guilty. He knows there are some packs who take shifting to be a very private thing that’s only to be done around family. Jackson might be from one of those packs. It would explain why he was so awkward around another werewolf.

“Hey,” Mark says as they pull up to BamBam’s house. Jackson’s GPS said it was BamBam’s house at least, but the lights aren’t on and there’s no obnoxious techno or hip-hop blasting loud enough to shake the windows. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t know you were shifting-shy.” Jackson turns to look at him and in the dark Mark can’t even see the fur on his jaw; he looks almost _human_ and that makes Mark even more uncomfortable. “I should’ve asked where you were from.”

Jackson shakes his head and laughs to himself. “You...you’re blind as a fucking bat aren’t you?” The shadows shift and Mark thinks Jackson’s running his hands through his fur. Which he probably shouldn’t do seeing as the fur is a bitch to get back down once it’s all fuzzed up.

Mark nods. “My nose is all stuffed up from allergies too. It’s why I couldn’t get to my friend’s house, remember?” Jackson nods. “Well, thanks for the ride. I should probably get inside. See you around sometime, maybe?”

Mark’s almost out of the car when Jackson stops him with a hand on his arm. “Listen,” Jackson starts and Mark can hear the hesitation in his voice. “Are you sure your friends are even home? The house is dark and it’s all quiet. It doesn’t look like they’re having a party.” He’s not wrong. But what else is Mark going to do? Ask Jackson to give him a ride home? Jackson’s already done enough for him tonight and Mark went and repaid him by shifting in front of him without permission.

Jackson’s phone buzzes with a text, startling them both. Mark watches the fuzzy spot of light in his vision rise as Jackson picks up his phone. “What were your friends’ names again?” Mark answers and Jackson blows out a whistle. “Looks like they moved on to Namjoon’s party. He just sent me a text saying that three guys showed up wasted looking for their friend Mark. Then they asked who you’d left with and where I was taking you.” It buzzes six times in rapid succession and Mark blinks in awe.

“Okay, so, Youngjae says, quoting this, ‘Mark, you should go home. I’ll bring your phone back to you tomorrow morning.’ He’s very coherent for being wasted. And someone who I think misspelled their own name said, ‘Mork, I’m’ keyboard smash keyboard smash smiley face.”

“BamBam...or Yugyeom. Maybe both. Either way I guess I made you drive out here for nothing. So, uh, sorry.” Mark fidgets uncomfortably with one foot on the pavement and one foot still pressed against the floorboards of the car.

Jackson shrugs. “You didn’t _make_ me do anything. I’m happy to help. There are worse people I could pick up than someone who transforms into a wolf in the back of my car.” And that’s fair. At least Mark isn’t a serial killer or anything. He’s just a very stupid werewolf who forgot basic shifting etiquette. “I can give you a ride home too. If you need one, that is. Wouldn’t want you getting lost again, you know?”

Mark fits himself back into the front seat with a smile. “That’d be great,” he says, “that’d be really cool, thank you.” He tells Jackson his address and smiles down at his hands. His stomach feels a little fluttery. _He_ feels a little charmed.

The ride passes by comfortably. Jackson plays with the radio stations and raps along to the songs that he knows. Mark doesn’t think he’s too bad either. The singing is not good, a little like a dying cat if Jackson strains too hard for a high note, but his voice sounds good when he raps. Mark joins in for one verse and bursts into laughter when Jackson starts hyping him, hiding his smile behind his hand at the nickname _DJ Howler_. It’s awful – would actually be a little offensive if Jackson wasn’t a werewolf too. But Mark laughs and laughs anyway.

“Hey,” Jackson taps him on the arm when they come up to a stoplight, “I think I might have some allergy medicine in the center console. I was gonna tell you earlier but then you turned into a wolf – good God, you turned into a wolf in my back seat. What a fucking night, man. _Anyway_ , I was gonna tell you before the wolf thing but then I forgot.”

Mark feels his face heat up sheepishly and he grumbles about saying he was sorry. Jackson can’t be _that_ unused to seeing people shift, even if he is from one of the more shifting-shy packs.

Unless he’s an orphan or he was turned as a little kid and never really got used to the idea of werewolves existing in large numbers. That would be really sad. Mark decides he doesn’t want to think about that.

Mark goes digging through the center console and pulls out a box that looks vaguely orange in the light. It’s the regular strength stuff, not the extra strength he likes to keep at home, but Jaebum and Jinyoung tend to only keep regular strength at their house because Jaebum has next to no tolerance for depressants so he has a decent idea of what dose he’ll need. He downs six pills and nearly chokes when Jackson screams at him.

“The dose is one pill! What the hell are you doing?”

“One pill won’t do anything for my allergies, Jackson! I gotta take at least five for them to work or my metabolism will just burn it all off!” They both start shrieking at each other about dosage rules and side effects and how Jackson needs to _pay attention to the road!_ “I know how much medicine I need! Jesus Christ, what kind of pack did you grow up in!”

“I didn’t grow up in a pack,” Jackson shouts. And Mark goes quiet. He’d never even considered Jackson grew up without a pack. He can’t even _imagine_ it.

Werewolves aren’t supposed to be alone. They’re pack animals of the best kind and not having that support system – It makes Mark’s heart thud painfully with sympathy in chest. Jackson must’ve just moved here too. The packs around here are quick to take in lone wolves and give them a home. It’s just not right for a wolf to be alone.

“I’m sorry,” Mark mumbles, embarrassed and a little guilty, “I didn’t know. Are you okay though? Like do you need a pack because mine is pretty small but we’re pretty accepting and stuff and we’d be happy to hang out with you to see if you fit with us.”

Jackson sighs. “You – you really think...? Look, I’m fine, Mark. But thank you. Let’s...let’s just get you home, alright?” Mark nods. They drive the rest of the way in silence. Mark stares out the window at the dark, blurry shapes and hopes he doesn’t shove his foot in his mouth again.

“Do you want me to walk you up?” Mark blinks as they pull to a stop in front of the apartment building. “The stairs and stuff. I’m worried you’ll fall.”

Mark squints at the five flights of stairs he’s going to have to take to get up to the apartment. Then he looks back to Jackson. All the fuck-ups he’s made tonight and Jackson’s still unwaveringly kind to him; he thinks Jackson would be a really great addition to the pack, if he decided he wanted to join, of course.

The stairs aren’t insurmountable. He’s climbed them without his glasses before. It was during the day though and he could at least see where he was putting his feet down. “You can if you want. I won’t make you.”

He sniffles and realizes he can start to pull in air through his nose. The smells are still dumbed down, but it’s something. He climbs out of the car and takes in as deep of a breath as he can. Then he gags because Jackson parked next to the dumpster and even dumbed down dumpster smell is _disgusting_.

"You good,” Jackson asks. Mark watches him round the car and stop next to him, apparently unbothered by the garbage smell.

"Since my nose is clearing up I’m starting to get my sense of smell back and the dumpster is _rank_. I don’t know how you’re standing next to it and not, like, vomiting.”

Jackson laughs, high-pitched and a little stressed, “I think your nose is better than mine.” He mumbles something under his breath that’s too quiet for Mark to hear so he just shrugs. Jackson must be nose blind if Mark’s singular working nostril is better than his whole nose, but Mark’s done putting his foot in his mouth for the night. “Which floor are you on?” Mark tells him that he’s on the fifth and they walk up the stairs in silence.

Mark takes what he hopes are subtle sniffs of the air, trying to get a whiff of Jackson’s scent. He searches for that distinctive earthy scent all werewolves have but all he gets are oranges and sugar. It’s a weird combination. Not _bad_ , but pretty fucking weird.

“Do you wear a lot of deodorant,” he asks at the landing of the third floor. Jackson is right at his side, a hand at his elbow because Jackson’s worried Mark will fall down the stairs and get hurt or something.

“What kind of question is that,” Jackson, more like a real laugh than the hysterical giggling from the car. “Are you trying to say I stink? Is that what your super nose is picking up?”

Mark feels his cheeks burn and he grimaces. Foot meets mouth _again_. “I just can’t smell you. Like you don’t smell like a werewolf.”

Jackson sighs but doesn’t answer and Mark leaves it alone. Jackson’s got a bad nose _and_ he’s shifting-shy _and_ he grew up without a pack; it wouldn’t be too hard to imagine something happened to his scent glands when his life sounds that awful. Mark doesn’t want to poke at anymore sore spots if he can help it. He looks over and realizes Jackson’s still caught in mid-shift, tufts of fur silhouetted by the moon. It’s strange. It’s Halloween though; there are stranger things than werewolves out on Halloween.

Mark starts fishing around his jacket for his keys on the stairs up to the fifth floor, praying he didn't lose them in the woods or Jackson's car. If he had to choose he'd rather his keys be somewhere in Jackson's backseat, but he still doesn't want to have to go fishing around the floorboards. His fingers close around the familiar shape of his key ring. Mark's door is the third on the left and he counts each door as he goes just in case he gets lost.

He goes to pull his keys out from his pocket and something brushes across the back of his fingers. He makes a noise of confusion and pulls his keys out. He tries to peer into his pocket but his eyesight is garbage even when he's that close. "Mind holding my keys for a second," Mark asks, "There's something in my pocket but I can't see what it is."

"Sure." Jackson takes the keys and Marks shoves his hand back into his pocket.

It only takes a second to find the thing and he pulls it back out with a hum of confusion. He has no fucking clue what could be in his pocket besides his keys. Maybe his ability to have a conversation without offending Jackson is in there? That would be nice.

Mark unbends two pieces of thing and holds them up to his face. And then he swears in every language he knows because his glasses have been in his pocket the _whole goddamn night_. If he'd just checked his fucking jacket he wouldn't been so lost and then - Jackson probably would've had a better Halloween. At least he wouldn't have had to drive a blind, annoying moron around all night.

"Your glasses?" Mark nods, too embarrassed to look away from his stupid glasses. "Well...shit," Jackson laughs, "that would've made life a lot easier, huh?" Mark nods again. And now he feels guilty too.

He sighs and shoves the glasses on his face. The world comes into focus as he blinks and he looks up from his hands. "I'm really sorry. Kinda made this whole driving thing kinda pointless – what the _fuck_?"

Jackson bursts into gasping, doubled-over laughter. And the _fake fur_ glue to the sides of his face sticks up in awkward clumps when Jackson rubs at his face. "You – you're not," Mark splutters his way through an accusation and starts jumping in place, pointing at the headband with wolf ears and fake fur and screeching. "You aren't a werewolf? Since when?"

"Since we met, Mark. I've been human this whole time. You're just like...really bad at picking out other werewolves I guess."

Mark feels his cheeks burn. "That's not fair! I didn't have my classes and my allergies made my nose all stuffed up. Y-you can't blame this on me!" Embarrassed indignation bubbles up in his chest and he wonders if he can just hide in his apartment and forget that this entire thing happened. "God, why didn't you say anything! I – _I_ _shifted in your backseat!_ "

"Oh, trust me, I know. One second you're this sweet, nerdy little dude in my front seat and the next you're a giant fucking wolf." Jackson smiles at the memory and Mark groans. He's so stupid. So, so stupid.

"Why didn't you say anything? Like I made it so obvious that I had no idea you were human and you never said _anything_. I even said you didn't smell like a werewolf! Come on!"

Jackson shrugs. Mark realizes he was right when he thought Jackson might be pretty. Pretty voices usually have pretty faces, not that that's any help to him right now. Right now, he has to make sure Jackson won't tell anyone about Mark's giant fucking secret and also live down the fact that he is un idiota grande.

"I mean at first I was just like freaking the fuck out because you turned into a giant wolf in my backseat. And then I realized you thought I could also turn into a giant wolf and that's why you were being so friendly. I was worried you'd jump out of the car or something if you realized I wasn't and I didn't want you to die because you're blind and bad at smelling." He puts up a hand when Mark goes to protest, "You _are_ blind, Mark. Like your glasses are coke bottle thick. But anyway, once I realized what was going on and that I didn't want you to duck and roll out of my car, I _also_ realized that it would be really shitty to not tell you because you obviously weren't dangerous. And I wanna take you on a date but that's a whole other thing."

Mark needs to lie down for forty-five minutes. An hour, actually, a full hour. So Jackson's been playing along with him the whole time. Mark sniffles miserably and finally accepts that there is no werewolf scent wafting off of Jackson.

Jackson pats him on the shoulder and hands him his keys back. "I mean I'm still up to take you on a date, if you want. The werewolf thing doesn't really bother me that much. So maybe don't beat yourself up over this? You had a set of very unfortunate circumstances tonight and I think it would've happened to anyone in your situation."

"I thought you were a werewolf," Mark mumbles, "I literally shifted in your backseat and kept asking you all sorts of questions that disclosed a lot of information about werewolves as a whole. If you were a bad guy – don't laugh at me, we don't have a name for people who hate werewolves. But if you were a bad guy I could've put a lot of people in danger. Because I'm stupid and dumb and I'm sorry you had to drive me around."

Mark isn't expecting the hug Jackson wraps him in. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Everybody makes mistakes, everybody has those days. Nobody's perfect. Just, like, maybe never assume someone is a werewolf unless you see them change into a giant wolf."

"It's called shifting," Mark says into Jackson's shoulder, "and I thought you were stuck in mid-shift. Some people do that on Halloween." Jackson makes an _ah_ of understanding. Mark tries to force the guilt and embarrassment down and ends up knocking his head against Jackson's shoulder and grumbling about being dumb.

It seems fitting for how fucking stupid he's been the entire night.

"I'm not gonna tell anyone, you know that, right? Your furry secret is safe with me."

"Why?"

"Not my secret to tell." And that makes Mark smile, just a little. It helps that Jackson still hasn't stopped hugging him, but only a little.

When he does let go, they stand awkwardly in the hallway. Mark isn't sure what the etiquette is for dealing with these sorts of situations. Thinking someone is a werewolf when they’re not and then shifting in the backseat of their car isn’t actually something that happens to him often. Or at all, really.

He stares at Jackson's face, which is a really nice face, and remembers the fun they had in the car before Mark shifted. All things considered, he wouldn't mind doing the whole _fun_ thing again.

"You mean it," he asks as Jackson looks like he's almost ready to say goodbye. "The date? Do you mean it?"

Jackson grins so wide Mark's cheeks ache in sympathy and he nods. "Hell yeah. You're one of the coolest people I've ever met, even without the wolf thing. And you're _really_ pretty." Mark knows the hexadecimal code for the exact shade of red his face is turning right now. But it makes Jackson laugh and that sound is really nice. "Put your number in my phone and I'll call you tomorrow? I'll send a few texts or something so I know when you get your phone back, obviously, but I like talking better than texting."

Mark winces internally at the thought of having to talk on the phone, but he decides he can sacrifice a little bit of his time for Jackson. He puts all his contact information in Jackson's phone and waves goodbye as he starts walking back down the hallway. Mark's head is spinning from the seven different kinds of crazy he's experienced tonight, but it's a good kind of spinning.

He's just unlocking his door when he hears footsteps, too caught up in his own head to notice them before they're so close. He turns his head towards the sound and nearly jumps ten feet in the air when he feels lips against his own.

Jackson pulls away a second later, cheeks pink and smiling like he just won an Olympic gold medal or something. "Count us even? You shifted in my backseat and I stole a kiss." Mark nods dumbly, lips tingling and he wonders if it'd be too cliché to touch them. "Alright," Jackson giggles, "awesome. Well, uh, goodnight. Talk to you tomorrow."

"Yeah, talk to you tomorrow."

Jackson leaves for real then. Mark hears his car start up in the parking lot; he still hasn't moved from where Jackson kissed him. The car engine wakes him up a little though, and he pushes his front door open. He does reach up to touch his lips after he shuts the door. No one can see him then, so it's almost like it didn't really happen.

Then he sighs at the moon shining through his window. "Man, humans are fucking wild." Or maybe it's just Jackson. Either way, Mark finds he doesn't mind it that much.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please leave a kudos and a comment! Also feel free to come talk to me! I'm killmeDO on [Tumblr,](http://killmedo.tumblr.com/) [Twitter,](https://twitter.com/killmeDO?lang=en) and [Curious Cat!](https://curiouscat.me/killmeDO)


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